


Nothing Left To Lose

by Heather_Night



Series: Nothing Left To Lose [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent & Derek Hale Friendship, Deputy Allison Argent, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Oblivious Scott, POV Allison Argent, POV Stiles, Past Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Past Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Pegging, Police Officer Stiles Stilinski, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:32:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7958926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heather_Night/pseuds/Heather_Night
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles let himself into the McCall’s house and headed straight for the couch holding Derek and Allison.  He was sinking down toward the soft cushion when hands rested on his hips, staying his descent.  “No way, not again.  Switch with me,” Derek grumbled.</p><p>Allison laughed but managed to cover it behind her hand, disguising it as a cough.</p><p>Stiles and Allison tended to get into trouble when they sat next to each other.  Derek was well aware of this and tried to mitigate the damage whenever possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Left To Lose

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, the story nobody asked for but it's been brewing in my warped brain for a while so here it is. May I introduce to you a very toppy Allison who likes to take control of all facets of her life, including Stiles. The slow burn between the two finally pays off in a big, big way. I usually don't write F/M sexual situations but I would categorize this as a scorcher.

Nothing Left to Lose

_I know how it feels to have nothing left to lose_  
_To burn it all, and be left alone in silence_  
_How it feels with the anger and the rage_  
_Get out, get out, get out, we are defiance_

_\- Nothing Left to Lose_ by Heaven’s Basement

 

Stiles was late getting to the pack meeting. His shift with the Devenford Police Department had run a little late which meant he was showing up in his navy uniform.

His dad winced every time he saw Stiles in it but really, did his old man really think they could work together? His dad barely trusted him to take care of himself, he couldn’t even imagine what his dad would do if he had to play boss to him.

Besides, Derek and Allison had turned out to be good little deputies for the Beacon County Sheriff’s Department. They both made their homes in Devenford but hey, it was still Beacon County.

Stiles let himself into the McCall’s house and headed straight for the couch holding Derek and Allison. He was sinking down toward the soft cushion when hands rested on his hips, staying his descent. “No way, not again. Switch with me,” Derek grumbled.

Allison laughed but managed to cover it behind her hand, disguising it as a cough.

Stiles and Allison tended to get into trouble when they sat next to each other. Derek was well aware of this and tried to mitigate the damage whenever possible. If Stiles hadn’t met Derek when the guy had been de-aged (only in Beacon Hills), he would’ve thought the man had been a stickler for rules all his life. _Au contraire._

Stiles grinned; he’d been working on his French. He and Allison were planning a vacation there as soon as they could manage the time off. And save the money.

Scott raised an eyebrow as Stiles settled on the other side of Derek. The True Alpha was giving a report of the dangers currently facing the county. 

A witch.

A gosling; no relation to Ryan, which was extremely unfortunate in the eyes of the females in attendance as well as some males.

A skunk?

Stiles couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward, made eye contact and whispered, “Mon Petit Chou.”

Allison leaned forward as well. “I prefer Mon Cherie,” Allison gave her accent everything she had, seemingly pleased with the results before continuing, “but your Pepe le Pew was only passable. La pratique rend parfait.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Stiles answered with a grin.

Derek folded an arm over his chest, rested his elbow on the arm and covered his face with his hand while sinking down low on the couch. “God, you two are embarrassing.”

Oops. Stiles hadn’t meant to embarrass Derek, at least not tonight. He shot a quick glance to the couch where Allison’s dad, Scott’s mom and his father were sitting.

Mr. Argent was amused, Ms. McCall raised her eyes to the ceiling as if asking for patience and his dad was doing the perfect imitation of Derek’s posture.

Fabulous. Stiles would never prove he was a functioning adult, at least not if he continued to hang out with Allison. Then again, maturity was probably over rated as he was having too much fun to quit his friendship with Mademoiselle Argent.

The meeting broke up thirty minutes later with nothing to show for his appearance except a good laugh and disapproval from several members. 

Allison climbed to her feet first. “I suppose you and Lydia have plans tonight,” she asked.

“No, actually, Lydia and I are no longer seeing each other,” Stiles was a bit embarrassed to deliver the news but in his defense, it had been a busy forty-eight hours at work.

Allison hauled him to his feet so she could punch his arm. Hard.

“What the hell, Allison! That hurt,” Stiles whined, rubbing the bruised area.

“There are certain things you’re supposed to tell your BFF and when you break up with someone is one of them,” Allison leaned over and hissed at him.

Derek climbed to his feet gingerly and sidled away. “Coward!” Stiles called after him. 

The older man still didn’t like confrontation, detested being the center of attention and refused to be drawn into any misunderstandings that occurred between his partner and his friend. 

Actually, that was all sound reasoning. Smart man, that Derek.

“I’m sorry, Allison. It happened two days ago and I was hoping to have a chance to talk to you but with our being on opposite shifts this was the first opportunity I’ve had. Anyway, I thought Lydia would’ve updated you.” Stiles endured Allison’s glare but when she dropped her crossed arms, Stiles knew she had been mollified, at least to some degree.

“Contrary to popular believe, although you should totally know this, you are my best friend, Stiles. Not Lydia. I say we go for a drink now and you can catch me up,” Allison suggested, flashing her dimples at Stiles. Those things ought to be illegal.

Wait. Allison should’ve had plans this evening. With Scott. “I thought you and—”

“Nope, definitely off again. This time for keeps,” Allison confessed.

Stiles rolled his eyes. Heaven forbid he keep a secret but it was okay if Allison did. At least he was catching on to the rules.

“Since we’re both footloose and fancy free, would you like to join me for dinner and a movie, Mademoiselle?” Stiles asked, holding his elbow out so the crook faced Allison.

“Oui, Monsieur,” Allison responded, putting her hand in the crook of his elbow.

The two left the house without stopping to speak to either of their parents, which seemed a bit rude but Stiles was ready to get away from the judging eyes.

“Where to shmoo?” Stiles asked as he headed for his Jeep. He still missed his mom’s Jeep CJ-5 but it never had a chance making it into this decade, not with the rough treatment it had received at his hands. 

Allison continued down the sidewalk. “How about we head back home, drop our vehicles off and hoof it to Bonne Journee?”

Bonne Journee translated into _Have a good day_ and that’s what this was shaping up to be. “I like the way you think Mademoiselle Argent. I’ll meet you at your house in an hour.”

Nodding her agreement, Allison climbed into the tall cab of her Ford F-250 truck. Stiles might have taken a moment to admire the way her long legs whipped into the truck but that’s as far as it went.

-0-

They had just been seated at Bonne Journee and placed their drink orders when Allison flinched before smiling at someone over Stiles’s shoulder.

“Jackson, Lydia, how are you tonight?” Allison asked, a polite smile pasted to her face.

“I didn’t realize you’d be here,” Lydia murmured. Stiles could hear the embarrassment in her voice and actually felt sorry for her. Who wanted their former lover to meet their new lover, also a former lover? 

Stiles hoped his drink would appear soon. He was giving himself a headache with all of this double-speak. Or was that doublethink?

“We’d invite you to join us but Stiles and I have some police business to discuss,” Allison smoothly excused them.

“Allison, you’re looking well. Stilinski, you too.” That was about as cordial as Jackson would ever be to him so Stiles sighed, turning in his chair and rose smoothly to his feet. He put out his hand and let the other man crush it. “You look great, man. Seriously, Jackson, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it because it totally agrees with you.”

Frist there was a frown while Jackson stared at Stiles, trying to decide if he was bullshitting him. Once he ascertained Stiles meant what he’d said, a real smile crinkled the corners of Jackson’s eyes. “Thanks, Stiles. We’ll let you two get back to your business.” Jackson didn’t seem bothered but Lydia was frowning up at him.

Lydia had done a lot of frowning up at Stiles near the end of their relationship. He was kind of hoping the break-up would put a stop to that but apparently not. He wished Jackson luck; he hoped the other man could make Lydia happy because had sure failed at it.

Stiles dropped into his chair and made grabby hands as the waiter appeared with their drinks. He’d sucked down his bourbon and water in three gulps, left to chase the ice cubes around the bottom of his tumbler.

Allison was smiling but it was her sympathetic smile that set Stiles’s teeth on edge. “It was an amicable break-up. We wanted different things. Her someone with a bit more in the bank account and ambition to succeed, and me someone,” Stiles cut himself off. He didn’t actually know what he wanted but he hadn’t found it with Lydia that much had been clear.

The waiter appeared at Stiles’s side with a fresh drink. He smiled his gratitude as he forced himself to sip instead of gulp. Allison was no slouch, sipping steadily on her dry martini. Stiles wasn’t even sure Allison liked martinis; he suspected it was the cocktail glass they were served in that she really enjoyed. _Tres chic._

“Anyway, tell me about you and the True Alpha. I thought this time was different,” Stiles invited.

Both Scott and Allison had changed, Allison more so than most people realized due to her time in Purgatory that no one else knew about, so Stiles didn’t necessarily think they would be a great match. It didn’t matter what he thought though and he’d learned the hard way to keep his mouth shut. That lesson happened probably just after Scott-and-Allison Version 2.0. They had progressed to Version 4.0 in the ten years since they first dated back in high school. Wow, it had been ten years since their stint in Purgatory. 

_Tempus fugit._ Whoops, wrong language.

Allison took another long sip from her martini. “It just wasn’t working out. He was a bit, um, possessive?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Stiles prompted.

Usually Allison couldn’t stop herself from sharing her feelings—good, bad or ugly—when they came to her first true love. 

“Definitely telling,” his friend confirmed, eying the garnish of olives. She submerged the stick, pushing the olives down so they could soak up maximum alcohol.

Perhaps it had not been an amicable break-up. Possessiveness had been a running theme throughout their previous couplings.

“Allison!” Scott’s excited voice called.

Speak of the devil.

“Oh, hi Stiles.” Stiles lifted an eyebrow at the lack luster greeting. He and Scott were no longer best friends but they were still friends. Except apparently when Allison was in the vicinity. 

Tiny Kira waved at both Stiles and Allison, a big smile gracing her face.

Kira was sweet. Powerful. Patient. Yeah, a pretty good match for a True Alpha. Stiles didn’t plan on voicing that opinion any time soon.

Especially not with the way Scott was making cow eyes at Allison and glaring at Stiles.

Allison was clenching her jaw, her face filled with tension. Her eyes narrowed and yep…she was angry. Lately it seemed like she could go from 0-to-60 without much provocation and then rage made an appearance. Of course Stiles had the same issue but in reverse. What was the quaint saying he’d heard about depression? It was anger turned inward.

Ugh.

Allison reached across the table and grabbed hold of Stiles’s hand. “We were actually going now. Can’t ignore our damned work beepers.”

Scott looked at the drinks on the table and then back at Allison, frowning. “Oh, okay. Don’t let us keep you. Call you later?” This last bit was directed solely at Allison.

Stiles waved at the couple as they drifted away, Kira holding Scott’s hand and escorting him. 

Stiles turned back to find Allison inhaling her drink. “What the hell, Al?”

“Drink your damn drink, Stiles. I’ve had enough of this place,” Allison said, setting her drink down on the table with finality.

The poor waiter choose that moment to materialize. “Check please. We’ve had a change in plans,” she snapped although she softened it with a smile. The smile was more predatory than anything so it didn’t really help smooth things over.

The younger man scurried to do her bidding. Stiles knew how he felt as he tipped the drink upward, swallowing the sweet concoction. Now that they both looked like lushes, they could get the hell out of there.

“Scott’s a good guy, Al. You should cut him a little slack,” Stiles encouraged. He knew Scott was still hung up on her.

Allison smiled but it was more like a bearing of teeth. Message received.

“Then again, I’ll keep my opinions to myself,” Stiles added. He knew better then to get between his two friends when things were going south.

Allison grabbed the leather folio with check inside as soon as it hit the table, slapping money between the covers. “Let’s blow this pop stand.”

“Would that be Stand de Pop?” Stiles queried as he climbed to his feet.

“Yes but I’m thinking more along the lines of de l'alcool. My place ?” Allison asked as she caught Stiles’s hand and tugged him through the tables toward the exit.

Ah, _alcohol_. “Chez Allison. Absolument.” Stiles was pleased with himself. Maybe the trick to speaking French better was to be drunk.

Allison just cranked on his hand harder, making him move quickly to keep up.

-0-

They were steadily working their way through the chilled Absolut Vodka Allison pulled from her freezer. Stiles took a gulp before passing the bottle back to Allison. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, all pretense of manners abandoned after the first five gulps. Drinking straight from the bottle had set the tone for manners.

“Sti-les,” Allison sing-songed in that tone she used when she was very tipsy, exaggerating each syllable of his name.

“Yes, Mon Cherie?” Stiles responded. 

Allison handed the bottle back to Stiles, frowning. “You can’t call me that unless you mean it,” she pouted. A pouting Allison was almost as adorable as a dimpling one.

“My darling? I would think I would be allowed to call you that. You’re my bestest friend,” Stiles hiccupped. His lips were tingling and that was usually the sign he used to cut himself off of alcohol.

Taking another swallow, Stiles ignored the sign. He didn’t have to work tomorrow and suddenly life looked better although he didn’t know whether to attribute that to being with Allison or getting drunk.

“I have to ask you something,” Allison said as she ripped the bottle out of Stiles’s cold hands. His body temperature ran cold after the whole visit to Purgatory thing but in this instance he was pretty sure his skin was cool from fondling an icy bottle of vodka.

When Stiles didn’t react to her statement, Allison rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Liquid courage.” She took another big gulp before setting the bottle down on her cherry wood coffee table. 

Stiles leaned forward and picked up the bottle, setting it down on a coaster; his friend would not be pleased if the condensation from the cold beverage left water rings on her beloved table.

Glancing around Allison’s place, Stiles realized he enjoyed being here more than just about anywhere. It was definitely better than his shitty apartment. Here there was cherry wood and leather furniture, hardwood floors and a French door— _naturellement_ —that looked out onto the Preserve.

Realizing Allison had grown quiet, Stiles turned his attention to her only to find her staring at him, a fond smile on her face. “What?” he demanded although he could feel his lips were tilted into a lopsided smile despite the numbness.

“Why haven’t we ever had sex?” Allison asked, her face set into a determined expression.

That sent Stiles scrambling for the bottle. He choked down a sip before returning it to its resting place on the coaster. “Jeez, Al, seriously?”

Allison pushed the coaster and bottle back on the coffee table before perching on the edge of it so their knees touched. “Yes, seriously. We’re compatible in every way—humor, dining, living space, work, even families. So why haven’t we ever tried sex?”

Stiles slunk back into the cushions at the back of the leather couch. Why, indeed. “I guess maybe because sex ruins friendships?” It certainly seemed to have ruined his friendship with Lydia. Malia, too, come to think of it. He and Derek had thought about messing around but Stiles couldn’t bring himself to do it if it meant one of his friends would then be avoiding him. 

Crawling into his lap, her long legs straddling his, Allison leaned down until their lips were mere centimeters apart. “What if sex strengthened the friendship? I mean who says best friends can’t sleep together?”

Allison draped her hands on his shoulders and between that and her weight in his lap, it was getting more difficult to think rationally. “Sex changes everything. You know this, Al,” Stiles reasoned. 

Those capable hands strayed from Stiles’s shoulders until they ringed his neck. Allison’s eyes narrowed until Stiles could barely make out the pretty light brown color. “So you’re saying you’ve never thought about sex with me?”

To be honest, Stiles hadn’t. Stiles was nothing but pragmatic these days and having sex with his best friend had seemed like a pipe dream, and a very, very bad idea, so  
Stiles had never given it any serious thought. More like the passing thought of _wow, this really hot chick is my best friend, how did I get so lucky?_ but that was shallow and Stiles tried hard not to be that guy. 

Allison’s temper made a showing as she huffed, her hands exerting slow pressure around his neck until Stiles feared for his oxygen intake. She pushed off his lap until she stood over him, towering, her hands crossed over her heaving bosom. 

Something snapped in Stiles. Made it was something breaking or maybe it was something fitting together like a puzzle but if Allison wanted sex with him then that was just fine with him. 

“Fine, you want to have sex, let’s have sex. Let’s go!” Stiles heaved to his feet but had to wait for the room to stop spinning.

Anger and frustration bled out of Allison until she was left standing nose to nose with Stiles in the tight little space between table and couch, mouth standing open.

It was good Stiles hadn’t lost the ability to leave people speechless.

Allison clenched her fist into his shirt and towed him toward the bedroom. Now it was Stiles turn to be left speechless. 

“Whoa, what’s the rus—mphhh!” Stiles lost his words, and ability to talk, as Allison whipped around and planted her soft lips against his.

Stiles had a moment to take in the space—brown bedspread with teal (or was that aqua?) pillows of varying sizes cascading across the surface. Copper mirrors decorated one wall and…

That was apparently all the time Stiles was going to be given as he found himself bouncing atop the bed. At least it was king sized. His long limbs appreciated that.

Allison pulled her top off and Stiles was faced with those lovely lace covered breasts heaving in his face. Stiles loves lacy bras. He loved getting females out of them even more.

Sitting up, Stiles reached out but before he could make contact, Allison was snapping out orders. “Strip. Now.”

Stiles was pretty sure this wasn’t just the vodka talking; Allison was hot. Burning like the sun hot. Take charge Allison was a total turn on. 

Falling into line, Stiles kicked out of his shoes. He peeled off his socks, too. Next came his t-shirt—he’d lost his long sleeved shirt somewhere along the way—and then his pants.

“Those, too,” Allison growled, snapping the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

Stiles wasn’t a prude and he wasn’t ashamed of his body but this, getting naked in front of Allison, was a bit overwhelming.

Her warm hands caressed his waist and then pushed and pulled his boxer briefs into submission until they pooled at his ankles and he was stepping free of them.

“Bed. Now.” Stiles was going to make a comment about someone being bossy but when he looked at Allison’s face, the words dried up in his mouth.

Allison was still clad in her matching (lacy!) bra and panties but it was her face that stopped Stiles in his tracks; she was staring at him, tongue licking her lips, pupils dilated, hair a riot of curls around her shoulders.

Fuck.

Stiles let himself get maneuvered back to the edge of the bed until his feet were planted on the floor but he barely hit the seated position before Allison had him stretched backward.

“Jesus, Stiles, you’re a sight,” Allison sighed, leaning over him, her hands tracing over his shoulders, his ribs, his waist, his…her fingers danced away from the area. “I want you to keep your hands right here until I tell you different,” she ordered sternly, putting his hands on either side of his head. 

She pensive as her finger stroked over his left biceps for a moment, the scar a reminder of a visit to the Preserve that had turned dangerous, but then Allison went back to stroking and caressing Stiles’s skin.

Stiles wasn’t sure he could comply with her orders and remain still but he would give it his all. Especially if she kept staring at him like that.

Nodding her head at his compliance, Allison leaned over and asked, “Do you remember what Mon Petit Chou means?” She was so close to his stomach, he could feel air on his skin from her words. It made him shiver.

This was an odd time to be giving him a French lesson but then again, French was supposed to be the language of lovers. “Doesn’t it mean my little cabbage?”

Allison smiled down into his face, her fingers caressing the skin at his waist, dipping inward, grazing near parts of his anatomy that were very, very interested. 

“That is the exact translation but it can also mean my little cream puff. You know, light tasty pastry filled with cream,” she licked her lips, leaned over and…

Oh!

Allison’s competent hands cupped and squeezed his balls as though weighing them. Those magical hands crept upward, squeezing at the base of his cock, thumbs massaging. Then her mouth was opening, taking his tip into her mouth and…

Stiles bucked upward but Allison had been ready, one hand sliding up to push on his abdomen and hold him down.

“Mon Dieu, Allison, vous me tuez,” Stiles moaned.

Stiles’s sexual experience was not all that extensive so he’d somehow missed how completely earth shattering a good blowjob could be. He was more accustomed to giving than receiving when having sex. 

“There’s a reason it’s called _la petite mort_ ,” Allison crooned as she pulled off of him. “And I’m going to do my best to give you that experience.” Leaning down, she recommenced, her attentions including swirling and sucking and…

That had best be it for French lessons because Stiles’s brain was going offline. He’d never succumbed to the post-orgasmic state of unconsciousness that some people have after some sexual experiences but this was definitely the most aroused Stiles had been since he was a teen discovering the joys of his own body.

Allison knew exactly how to touch him, where to touch him, how much pressure to use…it made him shift restlessly. His hands reached out to cup Allison’s breasts and he found them energetically batted away.

“Non, don’t make me tie you up,” she growled. 

His cock bounced, smearing moisture on his abdomen. He usually lasted much longer than this. Of course when the person he trusted most in this life who was a veritable goddess was giving him the blowjob of a lifetime, Stiles thought it was understandable if he came a little fast.

Allison did something with her tongue and tightness throbbed in the base of his spine, snaking around his belly, pooling in his balls.

Deft hands squeezed his balls, tight, and Stiles exploded, his orgasm a supernova blowing apart his world.

Stiles woke up to little kitten licks on his stomach. In between licks, Allison was whispering softly. “You’re like some movie star with your wide, wide shoulders, strong arms, ridiculously small waist and that ass, oh that ass…Stiles, I want to do things to your delicious little bubble butt.”

His cock gave a valiant heave, thickening and lengthening. Stiles had done copious amounts of research and knew an average man needed thirty minutes to recover; he was much quicker with a refractory period of about ten minutes. If he was ready to go again, it had been at least that long. 

Stiles shivered and it wasn’t from being cold. Is that really how Allison saw him? Maybe she needed glasses. After all, he was klutzy, freaky, morbid, skinny, spazzy Stiles.

“Stop that,” Allison grumbled him, swatting him on the chest. “You’re beautiful, Stiles.”

“Au contraire,” he rolled to his side so they were facing each other. “You’re la belle.”

Allison’s eyes grew misty and she smiled sweetly at Stiles, her dimples showing.

It was time for Stiles to repay Allison for her attentions.

Stiles leaned on his elbow, resting his head against his hand. His fingers had been itching to do this since Allison announced she wanted to have sex with him so he let them take over.

His index finger and thumb pinched through the lace panties until he found, yes, the already moist button-like organ he sought. Rolling his fingers, Stiles stimulated the clitoris. Most guys went straight for the G spot and ignored this pleasure center. It was definitely their mistake.

“Your fingers, God, I knew it would be like this,” Allison moaned, rolling on to her back, splaying her legs wider.

Stiles knelt next to Allison so he could have the use of both hands. He unhooked the front closure and perky breasts spilled into view, twins of milky white skin with dark sizeable areoles decorated with pert nipples. 

Stiles pinched one nipple between his fingers while his other hand continued to massage, pinch and roll the clitoris. That left one breast unaccounted for and that would simply not do.

Leaning over, Stiles licked the exposed nipple while his fingers brought pressure to bear on the other. The thumb of his other hand flicked at the button, drawing out moans and groans from Allison.

After a few more licks, Stiles sucked and chewed lightly on the nipple in his mouth. 

“Nahhhh, I’m gonna…Stiles!” Allison yelped.

Stiles smiled and withdrew from the wet nipple. “I’m not done yet,” he pouted. His pout wasn’t nearly as arresting as Allison’s but she smiled fondly. At least until he nimbly pushed her panties to the side and slid his finger into her vagina. Then she threw a hand over her forehead and that made her breasts dance in an enticing manner.

Allison might not be as filled out as some other females but Stiles wasn’t a breast-man; he was all legs and ass. Although Allison had the most sensitive breasts of anyone he’d ever had the privilege of being with.

Biting her lip, Allison gave that sexy moan again; Stiles was pretty certain his finger was in the area of her G-spot. He used his big hands to advantage, stretching his thumb up until he could put pressure on the clitoris while he stroked, stroked, stroked at the G-spot.

“Ahhh,” Allison bucked into his hand, making sweet, sexy noises. “Not. Yet.” The sexy changed to commanding.

Stiles found himself on his back, Allison pinning him to the bed.

“You’ve got me, now what are going to do with me?” Stiles teased. Allison’s face and upper chest were flushed a bright pink and her breasts heaved with every breath she took. 

Allison was simply stunning.

Reaching over, Allison’s weight rested fully against Stiles’s excited cock as she fished around in the drawer. His hips were bouncing upward, trying to find her moist heat, when she slammed the drawer shut, holding something in her hand, triumphant.

Her weight disappeared for a moment but before Stiles could lodge a complaint, Allison had stripped out of her panties and shrugged out of her bra. 

With talented fingers, Allison rolled a condom down his length and girth, murmuring, “Guess an extra large was right on. Who knew under all those layers?” 

Stiles cracked up, realizing Allison was referencing that most embarrassing moment in Economics Class in High School when a condom had spilled out of his pocket while he was digging for change to play one of Finstock’s deranged games.

“Shush,” Allison ordered, leaning down to kiss him, French style. Their tongues dueled, stabbing and prodding and it was almost more a fight than lovemaking but then again, when hadn’t everything in their lives been a fight? “We have to get tested. I want to feel your bare skin on mine.”

They moved from humorous to serious just like that and Stiles realized they had chemistry. Crazy chemistry. He wasn’t going to give this up without a fight.

Allison spread her legs, straddling his hips, her hands pinning Stiles’s wrists to the bed on each side of his head. Stiles had a bad angle to see what was going on but he could feel it and _sweet Baby Jesus_ it was like coming home.

Stiles’s cock found Allison’s vagina and gravity did the rest, her body sinking slowly down on to his.

Both of them groaned. Allison threw her head back and her soft, silky hair bounced around her shoulders. Stiles hoped she never cut her hair again; she’d had a cute chin length cut but he wanted to tangle his hands in her long tresses and…ohhh…

Allison used the strength in her super toned thighs to lift off of Stiles before she sank back down. Stiles pushed against the punishing grip she kept at his wrists, eager to wrap his hands around her little waist and help pave the way for her.

“I don’t think so. I like you,” Allison paused, “ahhh,” took a deep breath in, “right where you are, where I can control you.”

The possessive words sent a ripple down Stiles’s frame. He knew he was moderately attractive, kept his body in good shape even if that was more for his job, had a great sense of humor and knew how to treat a woman but this, Allison’s words, even if they were just sex talk, really got to him. It was like she really wanted him.

The movement of their bouncing bodies became harsher, both of them breathing loudly.

Stiles gave in to Allison’s body. Gave in to her control. He had a moment to hope his O face wasn’t ridiculous as his body clenched, her body clenched, and he saw sunbursts behind his closed eyelids.

Damn it, he’d wanted to see Allison coming apart.

Allison collapsed on his chest, both of them trying to catch their breath.

Their bodies made slurping and sucking noises as Allison pulled off of him, tugging the condom off his spent cock with a sureness and gentleness that didn’t make Stiles want to cover his groin.

Leaning over the bed, she disposed of the condom. They were too warm for cuddling—for once Stiles’s body temperature was right where it should be—so Allison flopped down next to him on her back.

“That was…wow. Thank you,” Stiles whispered. He didn’t want to ruin the moment but he had to let Allison know how much that had meant to him. “That was the best sex, hands down, ever.”

Allison tensed next to him. “Are you just saying that?” she asked in a small voice.

“What? No! Seriously, that was off the charts. I’ve never felt that kind of connection with someone else before,” Stiles ignored the heat pouring from the bodies as he snake his arm under her shoulders and drew her close.

Her body relaxed against him. “It’s just, not every guy likes it when I take control. You really didn’t mind?”

Stiles thought about a talk Scott had initiated with him sometime around Scott-and-Allison Version 3.0; Stiles had shut his friend down before he could divulge more details about Scott being asked to do something sexual he wasn’t comfortable doing.

Of course Scott preferred his women to be more along the lines of damsels-in-distress instead of strong, ass-kicking, amazons so Stiles hadn’t given it a second thought other to say he didn’t want to know about his friends’ sex life.

There was no room for a third body in their bed, at least not unless that was something Allison wanted to explore down the road, so Stiles decided he needed some clarification. “Allison, I passed out from your blowjob. I almost passed out from round two. I think it’s safe to say I don’t mind.” When Allison had nothing to say to that, Stiles became a little insecure. “I hate to ask this question, but was it as good for you as it was for me?”

A fist punched into his biceps. Hard. “Ouch!”

“Don’t be silly. That was the best sex of my life. I think you’re ruined me for anyone else,” she assured him, pressing a kiss to his bruised biceps.

“Ditto,” Stiles agreed. He felt a sheet flutter around them and then he succumbed to the exhaustion weighing him down.

It was a good exhaustion, though.

-0-

Allison hadn’t slept well, she never did when Stiles was on a different shift, and that left her feeling crabby and out of sorts.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Derek asked as he slid into the booth across from her. They were on lunch break and Allison was hoping some food would help settle her mood down.

“What if I vomit feelings all over you?” Allison asked. She appreciated Derek, he was both a good partner and a good friend, but she wasn’t sure how much he really wanted to hear.

Taking a sip from the cup of coffee in front of him, he frowned. “Please don’t use the word vomit when we’re about eat.”

Rolling her eyes, Allison smiled. It was always fun to toy with Derek. Dropping her volume down, she said “For a shifter you sure are squeamish.”

It was Derek’s turn to roll his eyes. “I was trying to use my manners but apparently that’s not to be today. So give, what’s got you out of sorts? I know it’s not your period because that was last week.”

Ugh. Hanging around shifters was usually a positive experience but then they had to acknowledge they could scent certain bodily functions it was just…off putting.

“Point to you, Hale,” Allison sipped from her cup. The waitress swung by and took their orders, spending an extra moment to flirt with Derek.

Derek looked uncomfortable, as usual, from the attention. Once the waitress walked away, he stared at her, hard. “Spill, already.”

“I just…Scott keeps calling me and I’ve told him I’m not interested but he doesn’t seem to believe me,” Allison started her explanation. She hadn’t really organized her thoughts but talking to Derek like this always helped do that.

“Scott, ignoring the clues in front of his face. Who’d have thunk it?” Derek snarked.

Derek and Scott had a complicated relationship. Derek deferred to Scott as alpha and Scott tried to be sensitive to the fact Derek had been an alpha but delicacy was not always the True Alpha’s strength. No one had been surprised when Derek had followed Stiles and Allison across the county to make his home in Devenford. Close enough to the pack and Hale land but far enough away that he could breathe easily. Derek had to gain Satomi’s permission to live on her territory but that had been easily done. Since the move, Derek had been much more relaxed. And sarcastic.

“Yeah, I know. I think we should tell Scott there’s been a change in relationship status but Stiles think he won’t take it very well and has talked me out of doing it so far,” Allison said, her tone bitter. She’d agreed with Stiles’s reasoning at the time but apparently she had some conflicted feelings about it.

Maybe suspected Stiles had some conflicted feelings about their relationship.

A hand dropped on top of hers, giving it a squeeze, before withdrawing. “Allison, Stiles is crazy about you. Now that I think about it, he’s been that way since I came back. Right after you two went missing and then were found.” Derek at least confirmed for Allison her feelings weren’t one-sided. 

Derek was smarter and far more astute than most people gave him credit for; just because he was built and handsome they tended to stereotype him as dumb. That was so not the case. Allison also trusted him to give her the straight dope, even when she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

“I get that Stiles is reluctant to let everyone know about us. I mean every one always seems to have an opinion about what he’s doing with his life. His dad thinks he’s being silly by not joining the sheriff’s department, Lydia thinks he lacks ambition, Scott criticizes all of his choices…and Stiles doesn’t seem to care. Why would he care about this?” Allison whined. She hadn’t meant to whine but this was really bugging her.

Derek stared at her incredulously. She only got a break from the look when the waitress, Mitzi, set their plates down in front of them. Once she sashayed away, Derek recommenced with the judging look. “Allison.”

She knew she was in trouble when Derek said her name that way.

“Duh,” he concluded, slathering his pancakes in syrup before shoving a forkful into his mouth.

“Duh?” Allison queried. 

“Yes, duh. Stiles is nervous about this because he doesn’t want to see you get hurt. He could care less what everyone else thinks of him, except maybe his father and then only about some things, but Stiles would do anything to keep you from getting hurt,” Derek explained. He followed that nugget of wisdom by belching a syrup-flavored burp.

“Huh,” Allison took a moment to ponder that. “You’re right. And you’re also gross,” she commented. “But thank you for that perspective.”

“I’m going to share one more fabulous piece of insight with you and then we’re going to talk about baseball while we finish this wonderful, carb-laden meal,” Derek continued, continuing to alternate mouthfuls of pancakes with sips of coffee.

Allison quipped, “Lay it on me,” as she daintily dipped her forkful of pancakes into a modest puddle of syrup. Her appetite was back with a vengeance.

“I sense that you’re not only hangry,” Derek smiled, pleased he could use the expression, “but also angry. You need to find a way to channel that energy. I, myself, use two methods.” He flexed his biceps until it threatened to pop the seam of his khaki colored uniform.

“Exercise. Yep, I can step that up, especially since Stiles is on that asinine shift right now. What’s the other method you employ?” Allison questioned. She shoveled more pancakes into her mouth, trying to keep pace with Derek.

When he didn’t volunteer anything more, she looked up, chuckling at his blushing face. “Hey, you started this, Hale, don’t hold back on me now.”

“Raunchy sex,” he spit out. Mitzi had been approaching the table, coffee pot in hand, but she did a U-turn before she made it. She was fanning herself with her other hand.

“I think that’s right up my alley. Thanks.”

Derek sat his fork down with a clank and covered his ears. “La, la, la, la, la. I don’t want to hear about it, Argent.”

Allison smiled coyly. “As if.”

-0-

Allison was impatient. 

She’d exercised like a fiend but that wasn’t really holding the frustration levels down; it just made her tired enough to make her fall asleep. Unfortunately once she fell asleep, she couldn’t stay there. 

That left research. Allison didn’t know if that helped or made her more frustrated. It had been more than two weeks since Allison and Stiles had spent significant time together and she was beyond horny. 

Sure, they’d exchanged texts regularly, fit in a daily phone call, but their jobs were keeping them apart.

At least they had until today. Both of them were off for the next two days and Allison had plans. Big plans. She’d texted Stiles instructions—to use an enema—and he had responded with a _WTF?!_ Allison knew he’d do it though.

Tightening the belt of the silk robe around her middle, Allison flew to the door when Stiles knocked. He had his own key but so far he’d always knocked despite Allison’s assurances he could let himself in to her place without announcing his presence; he’d assured her one day he would just come in but for now nothing made him happier than being greeted at the door with a dimple.

Yeah, Allison’s heart might have melted a bit after that conversation, so sue her.

“Allison!” Stiles stepped inside, pushed the door closed and wrapped her up in a bear hug. 

When her feet lifted from the ground as he spun her, Allison giggled. “Stiles! Finally.”

Setting her down gently, Stiles brushed a kiss across her lips. She was only a couple of inches shorter than him so when he leaned his forehead against her own, he didn’t have far to go. “I know. That sucked balls.”

Allison swatted his firm behind. “Some of us don’t mind sucking balls.”

“That was…actually pretty funny. I’d be laughing if I weren’t so primed for whatever you have planned for us. So tell me, what have you got up that satiny sleeve of yours?” Stiles nibbled down her neck and then took her wrist in his hands, sucking and pressing kisses on her forearm.

Tapping him on his cute, up-turned nose, with her index finger, Allison asked, “Did you follow my instructions?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stiles nuzzled his cheek against the sensitive skin on her inner wrist. 

“Then right this way,” Allison commanded, fisting her hand in his t-shirt as she towed him across the living room, down the hallway, to her bedroom. “Strip.”

Stiles undid his belt and fly but changed direction, tugging his t-shirt over head.

Allison gulped audibly. Every time Allison watched Stiles getting naked, she felt like this was a special gift, and perhaps it was since they’d both almost been lost to Purgatory ten years ago. 

Licking her lips, Allison admired the view. Stiles was flat out gorgeous. He was a little on the thin side but the way his physique tapered to his trim waist…his rack was exceptional although Allison knew Stiles’s self esteem would never believe it. Of course the fact her ridiculously attractive lover didn’t know he was attractive was a huge turn on. 

“See something you like?” Stiles smirked.

Allison laughed. “Do I ever.”

Stiles kicked off his shoes, peeled off his socks and shimmied out of his khaki pants, being sure to set everything on the decorative chair in the corner. They’d once made the mistake of leaving their clothing where they’d dropped it and narrowly missed concussing themselves as they tripped over them in their rush to get to the bed.

Untying the sash, Allison let the robe slither down her shoulders and her arms. She enjoyed the heat banking in Stiles’s amber eyes. Allison grabbed the flimsy material and flung it toward the bed. She had plans for that material.

“You’re a little over dressed, aren’t you?” Stiles asked, his voice husky. Allison was wearing a matching set of lacy underwear, the scarlet red showing her pale skin to full advantage. Stiles seemed to think so as his eyes roved over her, tongue slipping out to lick his lips.

Allison loved it. With Stiles there was no pretense. She knew he meant what he said and his body backed up his words. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,” Allison promised, reaching out and grabbing Stiles’s hand, drawing him closer. “You know how I’ve had some issues with controlling my anger?”

The two of them had never talked about it but Stiles was smart, and he noticed everything, so she knew he was well aware of the little bursts of rage that sometimes consume her.

“I’m aware,” Stiles answered, pulling her into a hug. “You’ve seemed better. At least I thought so. Was I wrong?”

If Stiles thought this was a weird conversation to be having while he was naked he didn’t let it show. He always put her first. 

“No, I think I’m better. Derek gave me some ideas on how to tame those feelings,” Allison explained.

Stiles squeezed her tight, one hand drifting down to her butt. He gave the cheek a tight squeeze. “Let me guess, you’ve been exercising more. I’ll have to give my thanks to the deputy next time I see him.”

Cackling at the thought of Stiles saying something to the reticent Derek, Allison groped Stiles’s butt cheeks with both hands. “He also suggested raunchy sex.”

Stiles put his hands on her shoulders and stepped back so he could look into her face. “Please let’s not ever say Derek and raunchy sex in our bedroom again,” he complained but his eyes were twinkling.

Thoughts of a threesome, with Derek, got shoved aside. Some day Allison might broach the subject but not yet. It might make Stiles uncomfortable if he realized he would be the object of hers and Derek’s attentions if they ever had a ménage à trois. Derek would never poach on her territory but Allison wasn’t stupid; Stiles had always fascinated the older werewolf and she was pretty sure Derek would jump at the chance to make love to the human. Allison would only allow it under her direction, of course.

Allison collected the pillows atop the bed and arranged them in a square near the foot of it. She fanned her slippery robe over the pillows, covering them with the navy satiny material. 

Turning around she found Stiles watching the proceedings, eyebrow cocked up in a question. “I’m guessing you’re not building a pillow fort but I have no idea what you’re up to,” Stiles confessed. She could see he was trying to puzzle things out but Allison was fairly certain she had him at a disadvantage.

“How do you feel about blindfolds?” she questioned. They’d never really talked about what was acceptable, or not acceptable, in the bedroom. Or the kitchen. Or the living room. Or the bathroom. She made a mental shrug; they’d been a little busy christening every room since they’d gotten together and Allison didn’t regret it one bit.

“As long as it’s not too tight, I think I’m fine with it,” Stiles answered and Allison admired the way his cock shifted, straightening until it rested against his tight abs. Very fine, indeed.

Grabbing up the belt of her robe, her made a spinning motion with her index finger. “Turn around, please.” She flattened the material against his closed eyes, relying on Stiles to position it correctly. Once he nodded she wound the material around his head, tying it off, playing with the soft curls at his nape. 

Depending on the level of humidity, Stiles had either wavy, or curly, hair. It was a revelation and as Stiles didn’t want Allison to cut her hair shorter than shoulder length, Allison didn’t want Stiles to wear his hair any shorter than it was right now. The longer length was sexy and it suited him.

Without warning, Allison took Stiles right arm and bent it behind his back. It was a move they taught you during the first day of basic training for law enforcement. Stiles knew the counter move, could easily have gotten out of her grasp, but he allowed it. Allison used the move to guide him over to the bed where she positioned him so he was facing the foot of it before pressing between his shoulders, pressing him down until he was leaning on the pile of pillows.

Stiles shifted his balance, his body sliding against the robe and he moaned his pleasure. “Kinky. I like.”

Allison moved to the top drawer of the dresser where she removed her toys. She had been practicing so it didn’t take long for her to shed her undies and step into the black leather low-rise harness. With a flick of her wrist, she tightened a dildo into the hole in the harness over her pelvic area. Once she had that in place, she activated the power-vibrating bullet hidden in a lining pocket. She might have played with this a bit, figuring out it felt best when she pressed against the dildo since the dildo rubbed right over her clit.

Snatching up the lube, Allison crossed to the bed where what seemed like an acre of pale skin dappled with moles awaited her. Slicking up the dildo first, Allison was finally ready.

“A little pressure,” Allison announced as she put one hand on Stiles’s low back.

“That’s not exactly where I expected the pressure,” Stiles commented. 

“That’s good because I was talking about this,” Allison replied, pressing her slicked up finger against Stiles’s hole. 

“Oh!” Stiles jumped a little but settled quickly. “That’s more like it.”

Smirking, Allison took her time. She pushed and nudged and recoated her index finger. When she could move it in and out of his channel without difficulty, she added a second finger. His prostate got a good nudge that just about sent Stiles into orbit.

“A little warning, please!” he yelped. 

Allison moved the hand resting on his low back, rubbing into the side of his waist until she could find some space between his body and the mountain of pillows. Her hand cupped the straining rod beneath him and she squeezed. “I don’t know, seems as though you’re enjoying things just fine.”

Stiles’s only reply was to widen his stance so she had better access. Her hips were making little, aborted forward movement, as her body chased the stimulation of the bullet vibration.

The dildo wasn’t too large—she was starting with the smallest—as she figured they should start slow and work their way up. It was a pretty pink color which Allison found less offensive than the nude ones she’d seen. She was pretty certain the pink of the dildo against the light pink of the tight pink muscles guarding Stiles’s entrance was going to look magnificent.

There was only one way to find out.

“Ready?” Allison whispered, her voice low and growly.

“Please,” Stiles begged. They’d done some anal play so Allison was moderately sure Stiles would enjoy this. 

Flicking on the switch to the vibrator in the dildo, Allison parted Stiles’s cheeks with both hands. Once Allison lined the dildo up with his hole she used one hand to guide it forward. 

Stiles jumped at the contact. 

Then he groaned.

Then his hips rocked across the mountain of satin covered pillows.

Stiles kicked a foot out but Allison was standing between his splayed legs, out of range of damaging contact.

Once Allison had sunk to the hilt, she withdrew, then pressed forward.

The pressure, and vibrations, against her clit were making it hard to keep things slow.

Stiles slapped a hand on a pillow next to his face. “Can we, uh, try faster?”

Yes! Allison would’ve pumped a fist but she was a little too busy, keeping the dildo steady and stroking Stiles soft skin on his low back.

Hips pulling back and then thrusting forward with a snap, Allison thought she maybe had a sense of what a guy felt when they boned someone.

It was exhilarating. 

It was maddening.

Allison wanted more.

She set up a fast tempo, enjoying the grunts leaving Stiles body as she drove forward. The friction of his cock against the robe seemed to be working out, too.

“Allison, ahhh, gonna,” Stiles panted.

“Not yet,” Allison growled. Her hips had the rhythm down so she tunneled her hands beneath Stiles’s body, finding his cock and balls.

She squeezed the balls, clenching her fists, enjoying the tensile strength beneath her hands.

Stiles howled; it was so loud it would’ve done a shifter proud.

Tingles down her spine signaled her impending orgasm.

Stiles thrashed weakly, impaled on the dildo and caught within her strong grip.

Allison couldn’t have said whose orgasm hit first but it took a while before she could peel her body from Stiles’s damp back.

Make that sweaty back.

Ugh. They both needed a shower.

It took some coaxing but Allison got Stiles up on his feet and was able to maneuver him into the large shower stall. She’d never been more grateful for the state of the art rain showerheads that provided adjustable cascading water pressure. The handheld showerhead was also a nice feature and that’s what Allison used to thoroughly clean Stiles, head to toe, both inside and out.

Allison shoved the mess of pillows and sweat soaked, and other bodily fluids, robe onto the floor before guiding a wobbly Stiles on to the bed.

She was content to let him doze for a while, her fingers spiking and creating whorled patterns in his soft hair, while Stiles rested.

At last he stretched and yawned, tugging Allison until her head was nestled in the crook of his neck. “Thank you,” he said softly. “That was incroyable.”

 _Incredible._ Allison agreed whole-heartedly.

“So that was part one of my surprise,” Allison announced.

“If the second part is anything like the first, am I going to land in the hospital?” Stiles teased.

“Not exactly,” Allison took a deep breath. “I’d like to go to the pack meeting tonight and let everyone know we’re together.”

Stiles didn’t respond right away and Allison peeked at him, trying to see his face.

“Allison,” Stiles sighed.

“Just hear me out, okay?” Allison encouraged. 

He gave her shoulder a squeeze, “Of course.”

“I think you’ve been reluctant to tell anyone because you think they’ll disapprove,” Allison began. Stiles snorted and she smacked him on the chest. “I don’t care about their disapproval but I think you care more that they’ll disapprove. For me.”

“That’s…kind of hard to follow yet I think I did. And you’re right—I don’t want them to hurt you. You know I love them but they’re…” Stiles trailed off, perhaps trying to find a good descriptor.

“I think judgmental assholes is what you’re searching for, except for Derek and maybe my dad,” Allison chimed in, inviting Stiles to laugh with her.

Only Stiles didn’t laugh. “It would be really hard to stomach if they said or did anything hurtful to you,” he finally answered.

“I’m not some fragile flower in need or protection, Stiles. I thought you respected me!” Allison sat up, arms crossed defensively over her chest that suddenly hurt.

“Allison, Mon Cherie, I do respect you. I’m not explaining this right,” Stiles groaned, threading his talented, long fingers into his disheveled hair.

“No, you’re really not,” Allison accused.

“If anyone hurt you, it would kill me. You’re not the fragile one, I am,” Stiles bent his knees and leaned forward, resting his forehead on his knees while wrapping his arms around them. He was very pale and looked oh so very young like this.

Oh.

“Stiles, I don’t want you to live in fear of someone hurting me. I’m so damned happy to be with you, I want to tell everybody. But if you’re not ready,” Allison swallowed back a sob, “then we’ll wait.”

Stiles crushed Allison into his arms that was made awkward by the way they were sitting on the bed. 

“Fine. Let’s tell them. Fuck ‘em if they don’t understand. We understand and that’s all that matters.” Stiles whispered into her hair.

A flood of moisture to her eyes had Allison blinking furiously; hunters didn’t cry.

Something dampened the side of her neck. 

Stiles was the strongest person she knew and he was crying.

“I love you, Allison,” Stiles crooned in that low, husky voice that drove Allison crazy.

“Oh, Stiles, I love you too,” Allison answered back. She’d known for quite a while she loved this man but it was sometimes hard to talk about her feelings.

Allison gave in to the flood, enjoying the release.

Together they would deal with whatever happened.

-0-

Allison’s phone rang and she checked the caller ID; it was Stiles. He’d left shortly after lunch although he’d hardly had anything to eat. 

Allison had asked Stiles if he was having second thoughts but he’d denied it, claiming he was achy and was going to take a nap but he’d back to pick her up later.

Stiles who was currently late in picking her up for pack night.

“Where are you?” Allison asked although it came out more strident than she’d wanted.

“I’m so sorry, Allison, but I have to cancel tonight,” Stiles answered, softly.

Allison could hear voices in the background. Stiles must’ve been called into work. It sucked but it was a part of their life. “Did something happen? Did you get called in?”

“Well, no. Actually,” Stiles began but Allison immediately saw red.

“You said you were fine with this, Stiles. You said you loved me. Was that a lie?” she accused.

Everything hurt. Her hand from clenching the phone so tight. Her throat from reining in the scream threatening to let loose. Her heart because Stiles, the one person she could always rely on, had lied to her.

“Of course not, Allison. Would you just let me explain?” Stiles begged.

“I don’t think so, not right now. I’m too angry and I don’t want to say anything I can’t take back,” Allison cut Stiles off.

“Oh.” Stiles sighed. “I guess I’ll talk to you later. I do love you, Allison.” The call disconnected and Allison was left staring at the phone in disbelief.

Allison contemplated her choices. She needed to think. Or sulk. There should be Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia in the freezer. Or maybe the Absolut vodka.

She stood there, lost in thoughts, for who knew how long.

A loud knock at her door startled Allison. She wanted to ignore it. 

“Allison, open the damn door,” Derek growled.

Allison stomped over to the door and flung it open. “What?!”

“Get your purse and come on, I’ll give you a ride to the hospital,” Derek announced.

Her mouth was already open to let loose a string of invective on her partner when his words sunk in. “Hospital?”

“Yes, hospital. Stiles’s appendix burst and they’re wheeling him into emergency surgery. If we hustle over there, you might be able to see him before he goes under the knife,” Derek had his hand wrapped around her arm, his other hand grabbing the leather purse sitting on the side table just inside the door for the sole purpose of collecting her purse and keys.

The haze of rage subsided, fear left in its wake.

“Surgery?” she asked in a tiny voice.

“Apparently that’s what happens when a human’s appendix burst, the human ignores it and develops an infection,” Derek grumbled. 

The ride to the hospital was accomplished in silence but Allison gripped Derek’s hand hard and wouldn’t let it go. It was her lifeline to sanity.

Derek pulled under the canopy by the ER entrance where her father stepped out to greet her. “Right this way, sweetie.”

Allison let herself be pulled along in a daze. She found herself in a waiting room, being pushed onto a couch. “You just missed him, honey. The surgeon didn’t want to wait any longer but it should be a short procedure. Under an hour.”

Curling into her dad’s strong arms, Allison let him comfort her.

She didn’t even question how her dad was there, or why he wasn’t fazed by her distress.

Someone sank onto the couch on the other side of her. Derek. He nudged her arm to let her know he was there for her.

She’d been such a bitch to Stiles. What if he didn’t make it?

“Stop it. He’s going to be fine.” Derek drove his elbow deep into her side.

“But I said such awful things to him. What if he doesn’t forgive me?” Allison wailed.

Both her dad and Derek had the gall to laugh. Allison sat back and huffed at them both.

“Stiles is the one who texted me and asked me to be here with you,” her dad answered.

Derek chimed in, “Stiles called me after you yelled at him, told me you’d feel like a total bitch but not to let you wallow in it because he understood.” 

“That man really loves you, honey,” her dad smiled at her, drawing her in for a hug.

“He really does, although I’m not sure why,” Derek cracked. Allison decided his sense humor was a work in progress.

Allison held the hands of both men flanking her, in a daze. At least this was a happy daze. Stiles really did love her and more importantly, he understood her.

Maybe forty-five minutes went by before Allison had a realization. “Where’s Stiles’s dad?”

Both men frowned and looked away. Allison stared down Derek; he usually caved to her antics whereas her dad knew how to avoid the drama.

Derek didn’t let her down. “Stiles didn’t want to worry his dad and asked us not to tell him until he was out of surgery.”

Allison opened her mouth to say something but then she realized this was vintage Stiles; he didn’t want to worry anyone, or bother them, so he kept quiet about the distressing things in his life. Allison supposed she ought to feel special because Stiles kept her in the loop, had done so ever since their little misadventure in Purgatory.

Wait. Allison really ought to feel special because Stiles trusted her. Stiles didn’t give his trust lightly and he’d given it to her.

Allison pondered that, and other thoughts, as time slowly ticked off the clock on the wall.

Dr. Geyer, Liam’s stepfather, entered the room. “You’ll be pleased to know Stiles came through the procedure with flying colors,” he announced.

Allison found herself on her feet. “When can I see him?”

“They’re settling him in recovery and then someone will take you back,” the doctor answered her patiently.

“Will he be in a lot of pain?” Derek asked. He wasn’t above using his werewolf pain-drain powers to help his friends.

“He’ll be on some strong meds for a while which should control the pain,” Dr. Geyer answered before shaking his head. “Of course I’d like to know how he ignored that kind of pain for so long. By the extent of infection, his appendix had burst a while ago.”

Allison’s mouth opened and then closed. She had a hunch she was the reason Stiles had ignored his appendicitis.

“Thanks, Doctor,” her dad said, shaking his hand. Allison and Derek both followed suit, thanking him for taking care of Stiles.

As Dr. Geyer was leaving, Melissa McCall came into the waiting room. “I can take one person back to sit with Stiles while he’s in recovery.” She glanced around the room, surprise showing on her face; she’d obviously been expecting to see Stiles’s dad.

“Um, I’d like to sit with him,” Allison said, following Scott’s mom. She’d never quite warmed up to Allison but Allison couldn’t really blame her; she figured the on-again, off-again merry-go-round of her and Scott had become wearisome for everyone.

“Allison, did someone let the sheriff know Stiles was here?” Nurse McCall probed.

“Derek took care of it,” Allison answered, keeping her fingers crossed the werewolf remembered to do it. Derek was extremely conscientious so Allison put it out of her mind.

Stiles was flat on his back. His skin was pretty much the same color as his white sheets and hospital gown. Allison sank on to the chair next to the bed and gently took Stiles’s cold hand in her own, chafing it lightly. “Could Stiles have another blanket or two? He’s always so cold,” Allison explained when the nurse hiked an eyebrow at her request.

Allison wasn’t impugning the nurse’s knowledge but she knew Stiles’s as well as Stiles knew her. Apparently better if Stiles could ignore a problem like that.

Scott’s mom didn’t argue, instead draping two more blankets over his still body. She put her fingers on the pulse point of Stiles’s other wrist and frowned. “He _is_ cold.”

Allison held her tongue.

After checking Stiles’s vitals, the woman stopped in front of Allison. “Stiles had a perforated appendix. He’ll probably be in the hospital for at least four days while we monitor the infection.” By her tone it sounded like Melissa McCall was going to enjoy having Stiles under her proverbial thumb for that time. Then again, Stiles saw her as a surrogate mother so it made sense she felt the same way about Stiles.

“Thanks, Melissa,” Allison responded. That seemed enough for the other woman who bustled away.

Allison brought Stiles’s cool, clammy hand to her lips and lightly kissed the pale skin.

Time moved at a snail’s pace but finally Stiles twitched on the bed, grimacing. “Allison. So sorry,” he whispered.

His eyes were still closed so Allison didn’t know if he was talking in his sleep or if he was aware she was by his side.

Stiles squeezed her hand but it lacked his usual strength. “Love you.”

“Oh, Stiles, I love you too. And I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain. I feel horrible,” she whispered.

“It’s okay, Mon Cherie, I’m okay now. No harm done,” Stiles was rubbing his thumb lightly across the back of the hand Allison was still using to hold on to him. 

“Mon Petit Chou,” Allison leaned forward, “Je t'aime tellement.” 

“Are you really calling me cream puff?” Stiles giggled. They must already have him on some heavy-duty painkillers if he could laugh after surgery.

“Well yes, remember what I said when I explained that to you? Cream puff is light tasty pastry filled with cream. That’s a perfect description of a certain part of your anatomy,” Allison teased.

Apparently laughing after surgery was frowned upon. “Oh, aw, that hurts. Don’t make me laugh,” Stiles whimpered. 

They sat there quietly, Allison brushing tousled bangs from Stiles’s face, monitoring his drooping eyes. When he drifted off, Allison let him sleep.

Melissa came in several times to check Stiles’s vitals. The last time she brought Sheriff Stilinski with her. 

Allison climbed to her feet. “Here, you can have my seat.”

The older man declined with a shake of his head. “No, that’s okay. I just wanted to see how he was doing,” Stiles’s dad said from the doorway. Allison wanted to grab his arm and tow him into the room but she understood his reluctance; it was difficult watching someone you love in pain. Stiles seemed to have learned that lesson from his old man.

The sheriff excused himself, saying he’d be back shortly. 

Allison subsided into the chair and was surprised when she looked at Stiles and his eyes were wide open and he was looking much more alert than he had previously.

“Could you please remind me why I’m here again?” he asked, voice still soft and hoarse.

“Perforated appendix. The dumbass is implied,” Allison teased.

Stiles rolled his eyes but stopped, grabbing on to the railings. “Head rush.”

“Just lie back and relax,” Allison encouraged, reaching for some ice in a cup.

“Lie back and think of England?” Stiles came back with.

“Lie back and take this spoonful of ice,” Allison responded. At least Stiles’s funny bone was still in tact.

“Did we talk about creampuffs earlier or did I hallucinate that?” Stiles asked, voice a little stronger.

“Yeah, we did,” Allison said but then she was hit with an idea.

It was too surreal to put into words.

“No. I know what you’re thinking and no, pegging me did not cause my appendix to burst,” Stiles put into words what Allison was thinking.

That made Allison think there was some element of truth to the words.

Melissa walked into the room, scanning the monitor displaying Stiles’s vital signs. The silence in the room made an impact on her as she looked first at Stiles and then Allison. “Is it just me or is it tense in here?”

“Actually, I’m hoping you can answer a question for me,” Stiles began.

Allison tried shushing him but Melissa just parked herself in front of Allison so Stiles couldn’t see here. “Go ahead, sweetie, what’s your question.”

“Can kinky sex cause appendicitis?” Stiles blurted out.

Having moved to the side, so she could wave Stiles off, Allison could see Melissa’s response to the question; a nod and slow blink of the eyes.

“Kinky sex?” she asked. Her tone was clinical and bile began to climb into Allison’s throat.

“Specifically pegging,” Stiles answered. When Melissa didn’t respond, Stiles said, “That’s when—“

“Yes, Stiles, thank you. I actually know what it is. And the answer is no. As long as both adults are consenting and the equipment is, shall we say, sterile there shouldn’t be an issue. If there’s pain then there should be a halt to the proceedings but otherwise, no, it wouldn’t cause appendicitis. However, stupid people who ignore their symptoms end up with perforated appendicitis and score themselves a four day visit to the hospital.” Melissa finished her explanation, crossing her arms across her chest. 

Stiles groaned. He was now the only pale face in the room. Melissa McCall’s face was a bright pink but Allison was impressed, she’d dealt with Stiles question with aplomb. 

Allison knew she was blushing hard, the top of her head felt like it was going to pop off her neck. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find some bleach,” the nurse finished straightening the blankets around Stiles’s shoulders before she exited the room. 

The sheriff was entering and Scott’s mom paused to elbow him in the ribs. “Chris was right, they are a couple.”

“Huh,” Stiles’s dad answered. He didn’t look exactly shocked at the news. “Allison, my dear, you have your work cut out for you,” he ribbed gently as he drew her into a hug.

The sheriff turned his attention to the person stretched out on the bed. “As for you, young man, you’re not supposed to scare your old man like that.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Stiles said. His hand rose like he wanted to rub the back of his neck, a mannerism both Stilinski men shared when they were embarrassed, but he grimaced and lowered his hand.

“Is there a specific reason you didn’t go to the doctor when you started to feel bad? I mean I thought you’d learned from my mistakes,” the older man said, moving closer to the bed.

“Totally my fault. Allison and I had an announcement to make this evening and I didn’t want to put it off. I used poor judgment,” Stiles said.

“An announcement? Melissa said you two are a couple, is that the news? Or is Allison?” The sheriff couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence.

Allison yelped. “No! Not pregnant. Just together,” she rushed to explain.

“Okay then. I mean you two will make gorgeous babies but one step at a time,” Stiles’s dad smiled, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

The sheriff was still a handsome man and Allison felt like she had a glimpse into Stiles’s future. 

His dad leaned down and carefully hugged Stiles. “I’m very happy for you, kiddo.” He looked over his shoulder. “You, too, deputy.”

Stiles yawned and Sheriff Stilinski took this as his sign to leave. “I’ll visit you again tomorrow. Good night guys.” He squeezed Allison’s shoulder on the way past. “Don’t let him do anything stupid,” he asked.

“I heard that!” Stiles called.

“You were supposed to,” was the return answer.

“Well, that went better than I had hoped. Other than the whole emergency surgery thing,” Allison commented, taking up her perch on the chair again.

Stiles looked at her, his eyes looking suspiciously moist. “Do you need me to get Derek? He said he’d drain your pain if you needed.”

“No, I don’t need Derek. I just need you. I feel so lucky,” Stiles said, reaching for Allison’s hand again. “I can’t believe everything that needed to happen in order for us to end up together.”

The big thing being Purgatory. 

Allison’s own eyes became damp. “I think we make a pretty incredible team.”

“Always,” Stiles responded before he lost the battle and fell asleep.

-0-

Allison fluffed a pillow and crammed it behind Stiles’s back. “There, that should make you more comfortable.”

Stiles grabbed Allison’s hand before she could flit away. Again. It was very difficult seeing Stiles pale and still, and more importantly, in pain. Of course she’d witnessed this before—after Stiles’s return from Purgatory ten years ago and then five years ago, when he’d been seriously injured while they hunted the furry little magical cuniculi in the Preserve.

Huh. Apparently every five years Stiles was on pace to be hurt. Allison had better find a way to deal with it more gracefully or she was going to drive them both crazy.

“Allison. Really, I’m okay,” Stiles insisted as he patted the space next to him on the king sized bed.

“But you’re not okay,” Allison retorted, gesturing to him. 

“Fine, I’m not okay yet but I’m on my way. They wouldn’t have released me from the hospital if I wasn’t better,” Stiles reasoned.

Allison had her own theory; the hospital was sick of Stiles wheedling to be released as well as the constant parade of visitors to his room. Melissa McCall might be the only person in the hospital sorry to see the back of Stiles and that was mainly because she liked mothering him.

Allison could mother Stiles much better than anyone else.

Wait. That was…frankly creepy. Allison didn’t want to mother Stiles but she did want to take care of him.

“You’re exhausted. Why don’t you lay down and take a nap with me?” Stiles encouraged.

When Stiles blinked those big, brown eyes at her, dopily, especially set in a too pale face, Allison folded like a cheap deck chair. “Okay. But no hanky panky!” she shook a finger at him.

Stiles smiled weakly. “No hanky panky, I promise.”

It took a moment to ease Stiles down until he was lying flat. Stiles being pale, quiet and still were all abnormal characteristics for him but this, passively allowing others to help him, was the most concerning behavior.

Allison curled up next to Stiles, careful not to jostle him. The surgical incision was healing but due to the infection, Dr. Geyer had to bypass laparoscopic surgery and had cut him open the old fashioned way. It was going to take a little longer for Stiles to bounce back but everyone assured her he would make a full recovery.

A light knock at the front door had Allison scrambling to answer it before whoever was there could wake him up.

She huffed impatiently—they weren’t expecting anyone and how the hell was Stiles supposed to heal if everyone kept bothering him—before whipping open the door. She was greeted by her own father and the sheriff both smiling benignly at her. How could she stay mad at these two?

“Hi honey, how’s the patient?” Chris Argent said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Resting,” Allison said. She wanted to cross her arms and show her displeasure but she was happy to see her dad.

“Allison, I know you’re not going to like this idea but your dad here would like to take you for a bite to eat. I’d like to spend some time with Stiles so I’ll stay here with him.” Nowhere in there was a question; they were all statements.

“But Stiles is resting,” Allison argued. 

The sheriff was both her boss and her boyfriend’s father; she’d like to stay on his good side but it was more important she stand firm and take care of Stiles.

Opening her mouth to explain her reasoning as to why this was a bad idea, Stiles’s father took her by surprise by pulling her into a tight hug. “Allison, taking of Stiles is a marathon event, not a sprint. Take a break and when you come back, I’ll pass the baton back to you.”

“You’ve been watching Track and Field events again, haven’t you?” Allison teased, hugging the older man. Allison might not have always agreed with the care Stiles had received on his dad’s watch but there was no denying his metaphor, as convoluted as it was, made sense.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But just for an hour or so. His next dose of meds are due then,” Allison gestured to the kitchen counter where a cornucopia of bottles were lined up.

“An hour to sit and relax, get a bite to eat and catch up with your old man is just what the doctor ordered,” her dad said.

Allison looked in on Stiles, unhappy with his pallor but pleased he was resting, grabbed her purse and let her dad pull her from her house.

The sheriff closed the door with a kindly smile and Allison had an unsettling feeling she was being played by these two gentleman but she couldn’t come up with a reason why.

-0-

Allison waved to her father as she let herself in the front door. The sheriff was there to welcome her home.

“I just got his pills out in case you were running late. Do you want me to give them to him?” The older man asked, bright blue eyes twinkling.

“No, that’s okay, but thank you. And thanks again for stopping by. I’m sure Stiles was happy to see you.” Allison hoped Stiles had slept through the visit but she knew the pain was probably keeping him awake.

“Oh, yeah, he was definitely happy to see me,” Stiles’s dad gave her brief hug and then disappeared out the door.

That was kind of a weird exchange but then again, Stiles could be a little weird. It made sense he’d gotten at least some of that from his father.

Allison double-checked the pills, filled a glass with cold water from the fridge, and poked her head in the bedroom.

“Stiles?” Allison’s mouth dropped open as she stared around the room.

Lit candles covered every available surface. “Stiles, what the hell! This is a total fire hazard.”

Perched on the corner of the bed, Stiles let out a cackle. “Leave it to you to turn a romantic gesture into a threat.”

Allison handed Stiles his pills and the glass of water. He drained the glass, swallowing his pills without complaint. “Will you sit with me please? I have something to ask you.”

Sinking carefully on to the bed next to Stiles, Allison turned sideways so she could see him better. “Okay, ask me.”

Stiles had better not ask to have sex; he wasn’t cleared for that kind of activity yet.

“Allison Argent, when I first met you I didn’t like you. I thought you’d stolen my best friend’s attentions away and I was jealous. It took me a few years to figure out I might have been jealous of his getting to spend time with this beautiful, ass-kicking, tough cookie. When you died, my soul ached; it was my fault but as soon as I could, I got you back. Imagine my surprise that you wanted me in your life, too. In fact, if it hadn’t been for you, Allison, I’m pretty sure I would have killed myself.”

The thought of losing Stiles, even back when they were still in high school, was completely unacceptable. Stiles had been her rock. 

Allison had a hand curled protectively over her heart, the other hand held between Stiles’s cool hands. She wasn’t really tracking where Stiles was going with this but his words made her want to cry.

“Allison, vous s'il vous plaît me faire l'honneur de me joindre dans le mariage?” Stiles asked solemnly. 

It took a half a second for Allison’s brain to catch up—Stiles was asking her if she would marry him. Specifically, _would you please do me the honor of joining me in marriage?_

He continued on, not acknowledging that he’d just rocked her world, “I promise to always listen to you, put you first and cherish you.”

Stiles popped a little box open and a platinum ring with a square-cut diamond twinkled at her. It was a simple setting, almost antique looking and Allison adored it.

Stiles was proposing.

“Oui. Absolument,” Allison sniffed as Stiles slide the ring on to her finger and it was a perfect fit.

She pulled her hand in to admire the ring. On her finger.

She was engaged.

To Stiles.

“Oh, Stiles. I want to kiss you,” Allison brushed tears impatiently from her cheeks.

“Yes, please. Just carefully,” Stiles wheezed as Allison first hugged him, then kissed him.

It was a slow, lazy kiss. Filled with promise. 

The low simmering frustration and anger she usually felt melted away.

The rage was gone.

“You know, there was a time I thought I had nothing left to lose but that changed. You changed that. Stiles, I love you so much,” Allison pulled Stiles back into a soft, sensual kiss.

Later she would ask for the details about how Stiles plotted this out, the story behind the ring, why today. 

For now she was just going to enjoy the moment. And all the moments to come.

 

Finis

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoyed writing that rare pair but to be honest, even I didn't realize how adventurous the couple was going to turn out to be. Whew!
> 
> That fills the surgery prompt for my Hurt/Comfort Bingo Card.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
